Building Bridges
by Jellie789
Summary: A little one-shot set in season 13, post "Educated Guess." I wanted a follow-up scene from the conversation Liv & Amanda had in the hospital, where Amanda told Olivia something had happened to her on the job that wasn't worth pursuing. As the show didn't give me it, I wrote my own.


_"__Something happened to me…on the job,"_

_"__Someone you worked with?"_

_"__Something not worth pursuing,"_

_"__That's how they win."_

Olivia Benson was done. There was some Madagascan vanilla luxury bubble bath that had sat unopened in her bathroom cupboard since Christmas, and it was calling her name tonight. She couldn't wait to sink down beneath the bubbles, the water almost unbearably hot, and sip a large glass of red wine while she basked in the short state of peace that came from wrapping up a case. But, finding peace would only come if she could find her colleague first. Their unfinished conversation from earlier in the week needed to be continued, otherwise Olivia's night of relaxation and self-care would be unachievable, as Amanda Rollins would be creeping in and out of her thoughts instead. She had kicked herself for being so nonchalant after Amanda had told her something had happened to her on the job. She felt guilty. She knew how difficult it must have been for Amanda to give over even that small piece of information. For whatever reason, Amanda had felt open enough towards her to disclose something, but Olivia had immediately shut her down. She couldn't keep letting the fact she was struggling without Elliot get in the way. She knew if any of her colleagues had started that sort of conversation prior to Elliot's departure she would have taken the time to listen. She needed to get back to who she was.

Nick, Fin and even Captain Cragen had all long left for the day. Olivia knew to any other onlooker that it would appear Amanda too had departed for home a while previously. But Olivia was not merely a casual observer. She was an astute detective, and something in the way Amanda's desk chair had been left at a skewed angle and not set neatly beneath the dark wood told Olivia it's occupier had been intending to return. The laptop that sat before the chair, lid open, may have fooled many others into thinking it had been shut down for the evening, work completed. But the tiny, red LED light built into the side of the black plastic betrayed it; the machine had merely reverted to stand-by mode.

Olivia had waited patiently at her desk for her co-worker to return from wherever it was she had disappeared to, but as the long minutes had drawn out into almost half an hour, Olivia had got up and paced around the squad room, begun to search the surrounding areas. But the blonde woman was no where to be found. Amanda was not in the bathroom. She had checked the one next to their squad room _and_ the one down the hall. The break room lay empty, as did the crib. It was only when Olivia turned to leave the crib, to descend the stairs back into their workspace did she hear a creak from the door behind her, leading up to the roof. It blew gently in the breeze, banging quietly in its frame. The latch had been left off, for whoever had opened it to return.

"Gotcha," Olivia muttered to herself, and she ascended the steps to the roof two at a time. She pushed open the second, heavy door at the top of the stairs – also slightly ajar – and made her way out on to the roof of the building in which she had worked for thirteen years. She immediately spotted Amanda leaning against the ledge, unaware she now had company. Grey smoke steadily streamed from between her lips as she blew it out into the darkening sky above her.

"I didn't know you smoked."

Amanda startled at Olivia's sentence, appeared to suddenly be brought back into the present – from wherever she had been – with a bump.

"It's just an occasional thing," Amanda shrugged one of her shoulders, and she turned her head briefly in Olivia's direction before diverting her gaze back over the city.

"What's the occasion?" Olivia asked, as she joined Amanda at the ledge and stared down at the city they were sworn to protect and serve. Amanda shrugged again, but didn't answer, instead she extinguished the end of her cigarette against the concrete wall in front of her, then immediately pulled another from the packet in her hand. "Are you planning to smoke them all at once?" Olivia asked, slightly bemused.

"Want one?" Amanda offered, holding out the small, cardboard box.

"No," Olivia waved her hand in refusal, noticing how she had one again gone unanswered. It was difficult to gauge whether or not to push Amanda to speak, or whether to let the silence draw on. She had been partnered with Elliot for years, and the silences that had spanned between them had always been easy to read. They knew when to cajole the other to open up and when to let each other decide it was time to talk. If she was up here with Fin, or Munch even, she would have some idea of what to do for the best. But Amanda was new to her. Olivia couldn't read her yet. In the end, Amanda took the decision out of her hands.

"Difficult case," she mumbled, and she blew out more smoke into the night sky. It was getting dark quickly now, and the temperature had begun to drop in conjunction. Olivia thought she saw a slight shiver crawl down the back of the slim woman beside her.

"I think they're all difficult, Olivia reasoned, "But some hit us harder than others," she observed Amanda closely for her response, verbal or otherwise.

"Hmm," Amanda nodded, not taking her eyes of the streets of Manhattan.

Olivia sighed, undecided if she was regretting finding the other detective for a chat. Amanda didn't seem to be in a mood to open up, but neither was she telling Olivia to go away. But would she? Olivia questioned herself. She knew that Amanda looked up to her, viewed her with respect, and maybe she thought telling Olivia she wanted to be alone would be rude. Olivia had struggled immensely immediately after Elliot had left, and she could admit to herself she might have been a bit stand-off ish to Amanda when she had first arrived at the 16th Precinct, and despite what had been said at the hospital, perhaps her behaviour hadn't left her open as an option of possible confidant. Olivia took a deep breath, preparing to share something of herself first in order to break the ice, the need to build bridges gnawing at her edges.

"I mentioned I was assaulted on the job," Olivia began, and while still Amanda gave no verbal response, Olivia could tell she had the other woman's full attention. The slight fidget that had been present in Amanda's stance as a result of…agitation? The cold? had ceased, and she was now stock still, save for the occasional puff on her cigarette. "I was undercover in a prison," Olivia paused, a cold shiver running down her own spine this time. She took a deep breath, "We knew there was this prison guard – Harris, his name was – raping the women there. He, uh…he took me down into an unused bit of the prison. There was a mattress…" she trailed off. She had had a lot of therapy to work through the PTSD, but still, whenever she thought about it (which was rare, these days) that inescapable, complete, paralysing fear was always the first of the memories to crash back into her.

Amanda turned to her now and initiated eye contact, probably because she thought Olivia was about to disclose a rape. Olivia searched her blue eyes for any evidence of understanding, for any connection that Amanda might share to similar circumstances. Reflected back at her was compassion, but beyond that, a flat stare, a veneer of steel that Olivia realised she would not be breaking through. Certainly not tonight, and certainly not any time soon. Whatever had happened to Amanda, whatever the _something not worth pursuing _was, it was nowhere near her surface. Olivia's blood ran cold at the endless, horrible possibilities. Her mind was assaulted with horrors she didn't want to imagine befalling the small woman before her, who suddenly seemed as similarly vulnerable as any of the victims she had counselled throughout her years as a Special Victim's Unit detective.

"He cuffed my hands behind my back," Olivia continued when Amanda turned away from her again, as if she sensed she was being looked into, read. Only this time, Amanda's gaze stared off into the distance, unfocused, rather than in observation of the city before her, "I screamed as loud as I could," she carried on, despite Amanda's apparent discomfort. "It's the first time in my life I felt like I didn't have the upper hand in a situation. I screamed some more, but one came. I fought him as hard as I could, but he was just too strong. He forced me onto my knees…unzipped his pants…then Fin came in and stopped him."

"Jesus," Amanda breathed, and she ran her fingers of her free hand through her fair hair, "That was close."

"The closest I've ever come," Olivia echoed the words she had spoken to Melinda Warner a few years before. She never even spoke to Elliot about what had happened. Eventually, when he stopped asking one day, Olivia assumed Fin had briefed him instead.

"Thank God you had Fin," Amanda's voice was flat, and Olivia guessed that whatever terrible event Amanda had suffered, no one had ridden in to save her before it had been too late.

"I know why you're telling me all this," Amanda faced her again and gave her a sad but knowing smile, that told Olivia her plan had been sussed, "The other day in the hospital…I should never have opened my mouth…I don't know what I was thinking," she admitted.

"Why?" Olivia prodded.

"Why what?" Amanda deflected.

"Why should you have never opened your mouth?" she questioned softly.

"Because like I said," there was warning in her tone now, her posture tense, coiled, as if she dared Olivia to try to push her further, "It isn't worth pursuing."

"Ok," Olivia replied gently, and she raised her palms to show she was backing down, "you don't want to pursue it, and that is your right," Olivia acknowledged. "But talking about something…facing it…you don't have to peruse anything formally to heal, Amanda. And if you ever want to talk…or if you ever _need _to talk, you can always come to me, ok? I just want you to know that."

The tension leeched from Amanda, and the younger detective turned her back to the city, leaned against the ledge after putting out what was at least her second cigarette of the night. "I just can't-," she faltered, and she raked her fingers through her hair harshly once more, "It's really hard," she admitted, and she stared at the ground for a few long moments. "I can't," she finally admitted, and for a moment Olivia thought Amanda might start to cry, but instead she chose to light up a third cigarette.

"It's ok, Amanda" Olivia comforted, "I am not going for force you to talk to me," she reached out and placed a hand on Amanda's arm. She could feel how tight her bicep was, and thought Amanda probably would end up smoking the entire packet of cigarettes before the evening was through. "And I am sorry if I have made things more difficult for you, or brought up any bad memories, I didn't mean to," she stroked her hand up and down Amanda's arm for a few seconds before drawing away, "I just wanted you to know that maybe I understand a bit, because sometimes it helps to know that someone just might."

Tears glistened in Amanda's eyes then, and Olivia turned away for a second to pretend she hadn't noticed to allow Amanda a second to compose herself. She took in the view Amanda had been admiring when she had joined her on the roof.

"I've lived in Manhattan my whole life," Olivia started, ignoring Amanda wiping her eyes hastily on the sleeve of her jacket, "And I still never get tired of seeing it lit up at night," she glanced down to her wristwatch, "and speaking of it being night time, it's probably time we left."

"You go ahead, I'll finish this," Amanda gestured to the cigarette balanced between her index and middle finger, "then I'll head home."

"You know," Olivia began, a little hesitant in case this was a bad idea. She didn't want to seem pushy, "I have got a bottle of red wine waiting for me at home. I am more than happy to share?" she offered.

"Thanks," Amanda smiled, "But I need to walk my dog. She'll already be wondering where I am."

"Ok," Olivia nodded, and she returned the smile, glad Amanda hadn't taken her invitation as pressure being put on her to share anything from her past when she wasn't yet ready. "Another time, maybe. See you tomorrow, Amanda," Olivia started to walk back towards the door.

"See you tomorrow, Olivia," Amanda replied. She was already on the third stair down when she heard Amanda call her name. Olivia reached behind her and pushed the door back open a fraction, enough to catch sight of her colleague again. "About sharing that bottle of wine? Definitely another time, ok?" Amanda smiled at her, looking more like the Amanda she recognised now, rather than the terse, disconcerted version of herself she had been just moments before.

"Definitely," Olivia rewarded her with a broad smile before letting the door shut behind her as she continued down the stairs. Even if Amanda didn't want to share the details of her past with her, Olivia reasoned, it might be good for her to build friendships with new colleagues, and she looked forward to spending some personal time with Amanda one day. She felt lighter than she had done in weeks as she walked towards the subway, realising that despite the sudden, hurtful departure of her old partner and best friend, maybe Elliot Stabler wasn't all that indispensable after all.


End file.
